


oh my god they were roommates

by sourcheeks



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcheeks/pseuds/sourcheeks
Summary: Bret couldn't fucking stand his roommate.
Relationships: Bret Hart/Shawn Michaels
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

Bret couldn't fucking stand his roommate. Shawn was loud and obnoxious. He stayed up all night. He had sex in the dorm. He was always drunk or high or complaining about not being drunk or high. He was more to deal with on his own than every single one of Bret's brothers combined. 

One of Shawn's many conquests brushed past him in the hall. He looked embarrassed to be seen. Bret didn't envy his poor taste. He didn't look at Shawn when he came in. He knew Shawn would be naked. 

"Put that thing away, man." Bret sat at his desk, taking his books out of his bag. 

"Oo, you're just jealous that it's bigger than yours!" Shawn cackled, but Bret didn't mind the teasing since he heard the rustling of fabric and the metallic clink of a belt buckle that meant Shawn at least was listening. 

Bret tried to ignore Shawn and work on his homework, but Shawn didn't like being ignored. "You got a call while you were gone."

"I did?" He looked up, frowning. 

"Yeah. Dude named Owen." 

"Oh, that's my little brother. I'll call him back when I finish this."

Bret took notes until Shawn left to go meet one of his shady friends, grabbing the phone. 

"Hart residence, Owen speaking."

"Owen, thank Christ." Bret blew his hair out of his face. "I'm going crazy up here. You called?"

"Checking in, yeah. How's America?"

"America? America is great. My fucking dorm room is the pits of hell, though."

Owen laughed at him. "Come on, you only have one roommate now! That has to be an improvement."

"No way." Bret snorted. "At least I could kick your asses when you guys pissed me off! And none of you are as bad as my roommate."

"You could always try kicking his ass."

"Believe me, I've been tempted." Bret sighed. "He's a little wastoid brat. I can't stand him."

"Winter break is soon," Owen encouraged him. Bret smiled. 

"Yeah. It'll be nice to get back to Canada." He sighed. "I have a lot of homework. Tell everyone I love them."

"Love you too, Bret. Good luck with your roommate."

Bret hung up the phone, rubbing his temples. Four weeks until he got to go home to Calgary. He could make it four weeks. 

Bret could not make it four weeks. He was going to strangle Shawn to death. 

Shawn had come back from one of his many nights tramping around the city, reeking like alcohol and weed. 

"It's Wednesday, Shawn." Bret rolled his eyes. 

Shawn turned to him, angry. "What are you, my fucking mother? Get off your goddamn high horse, Hart. You think you're so much better than me. It makes me sick."

Bret pushed away from his desk, standing. "I don't think jack shit! I  _ know _ I'm better than you."

"Go fuck yourself!" Shawn shoved him, hard. He was smaller than Bret, and clumsy, out of his mind the way he was, but it caught Bret off guard, making him stumble back. 

"Are you crying?" Bret was surprised, seeing the tears spill onto Shawn's cheeks. 

"No! Shut the fuck up!" Shawn swung at him, but he was slow. Bret caught his fist, pulling Shawn around into a chokehold. 

"You're a seriously fucking crazy bastard, Michaels," Bret gritted out. 

"Let go of me!" Shawn writhed in his grip. Bret, skills honed by his younger brothers, held tight. Not enough to seriously hurt him, just keep him more or less still. 

"You're going to drink some goddamn water and go the fuck to bed. Am I understood?"

"Fine! Just let me the fuck go!" Bret loosened his grip and Shawn stormed to the bathroom. Bret heard water running, poorly masking sniffles. He would have felt bad if he didn't think Shawn deserved it. Bret got to bed himself, trying not to think about his fucking crazy roommate. 


	2. Chapter 2

Things were weird after the fight. Shawn was avoiding him. Which - thank God. But Bret still felt guilty every time he saw a flash of fear in Shawn's eyes. 

He woke up one morning to the sound of Shawn puking. He walked gingerly to the bathroom, trying not to startle him. "You alright?"

Shawn looked up at him. He looked like shit. He was pale and sweaty, hair stuck to his face and vomit on his chin. "I'm fine. S'just a hangover."

Bret pressed the back of his hand to Shawn's forehead. "You have a fever." 

"Hmm." Shawn retched again, trembling. Bret sighed. 

"Hang tight. I'll be right back." 

He was running with very little, but he got a couple Sprites, a sleeve of saltines and some canned soup from the campus convenience store. Shawn was still hunched on the bathroom tile when he came in again. 

"Can you stand? Here, let me help you." Shawn was clammy to the touch, and he trembled like a leaf in the wind while Bret helped him to bed. Bret took off his sweat drenched shirt and used it to wipe the vomit out of Shawn's stubble. 

"You look like shit, man. Drink this. Slowly." He gave Shawn one of the Sprites. 

"Thanks," Shawn mumbled. Bret soaked a washcloth in the bathroom sink, folding it and pressing it to Shawn's head. 

"You're good at this." Shawn settled back against his pillows. 

"Oh - yeah, my parents worked a lot. So when one of my little brothers was sick I took care of them." Bret shrugged. "I don't like you, but I don't want you to die from a flu or some shit either."

"How noble." Shawn laughed weakly, closing his eyes. 

Bret kept an eye on Shawn, who mostly slept. He woke up occasionally to drink something. Bret microwaved the soup for him and even in his fever addled state Shawn teased him, joking about him being a perfect housewife. 

A knock came on the door around three. Bret opened the door and put on his best intimidating glare, which was a pretty solid intimidating glare. "He's not open for business right now. He's sick."

The man at the door, to his surprise, looked genuinely concerned. "Sick? That explains it. He was supposed to come over. I got worried when he didn't call."

"Oh." Bret hesitated, stepping back. "Uh. Come inside then."

"Who's that?" Shawn mumbled from his little blanket nest. The man smiled. 

"Hey bud. It's me."

"Oh. Hey, Hunt." Shawn smiled a little. "Shit, sorry. I flaked on you, huh?"

"It's okay." The man sat on the edge of Shawn's bed, stroking his hair. Bret felt like he shouldn't be watching this and he busied himself studying. Shawn and the stranger whispered to each other. Both of them were smiling. Did Shawn have a boyfriend? Did Shawn's boyfriend know about all the other dudes Shawn was seeing?

Whatever. That wasn't any of Bret's business. He'd done his due diligence and made sure Shawn didn't drop dead of his own stubbornness. He didn't need to be involved any further. 

Shawn drifted back off into another fever-addled nap. The man looked at Bret. "Hey, man. Thanks for taking care of him. Shawn is - well, he's a little self destructive."

"Tell me about it." Bret snorted. "I felt bad just letting him puke his guts up. We don't really get along, but, you know - I don't want him to go to the hospital or anything."

"You're a good guy." He laughed. "Man, are you Bret? You can't be. Shawn talks about you like you're a grade A asshole." He shook his head, stroking Shawn's hair. "But he's not exactly a reliable narrator all the time."

"Yeah. I'm Bret." He snorted. 

"Hunter." The man shook his hand. "Seriously, thanks for taking care of him."

"So, are you two…?" Bret gestures vaguely between them. 

Hunter laughs. "God, no. Shawn's not the monogamy type."

"Doesn't strike me as it," Bret agreed. 

Shawn whined in his sleep and Hunter went right back to fussing over him, seeming genuinely concerned. Bret had just assumed all of Shawn's friends were other asshole losers. But Hunter seemed like a good guy. Bret felt comfortable getting some sleep with Hunter watching over Shawn. 

"He was so weird about it, man. Like he was my mom or something." Shawn lit the pipe, inhaling deeply. 

"He seems nice." Hunter took the pipe and passed it to Chyna without taking a hit. "I don't get your damage with him."

"I'm telling you he's not normally like that!" Shawn groaned. "He fucking hates me. I don't know why he wanted to fucking - nurse me back to health or whatever." 

"Because you're miserable to be around when you're sick?" Waltman giggled. Shawn flipped him off. 

"Suck it, dude. I'm just saying. Hart is weird. He has like - seven little brothers or whatever."

"That explains it." Nash nodded. "Brothers are like that."

"That's fucking stupid." The pipe came back around to Shawn and he took a deep drag. He needed to not think about Bret. 

"At least he's cute," Hunter encouraged. Shawn choked on smoke. 

"Cute? You think he's cute? You are a severely damaged person, Helmsley," Shawn coughed out. 

"Someone's in denial," Chyna sang. 

"I'm not in denial! Go fuck yourself!" Shawn pouted, standing up. "I'm going to go lay down." He stomped off dramatically, ignoring his friends snickering behind him. 


	3. Chapter 3

Shawn disappeared for a weekend. Bret didn't think anything of it. He came back with a gift wrapped box, Bret eyeing him curiously. 

"I got you a present!" He threw the box at Bret. With instincts well honed by nearly two decades of living in a house full of young boys, Bret snapped his hands up and caught the box, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face with it. 

"Dude! What the fuck?"

"Don't be such a baby. Open it." 

Bret eyes the box distrustfully. "Why did you get me a present?"

"Went home for a little. Thought I'd bring you a souvenir from the ranch." Shawn shrugged nonchalantly. 

Bret slid a thumb under the shoddy seam of the gift wrap, peeling up the tape. Inside the small box was a novelty belt buckle of all things, embezzled with the words  _ Everything's Bigger In Texas.  _

"It's… great. Thanks." Bret placed the belt buckle on his desk. 

"Whatever." Shawn was trying to look nonchalant. "Figured I owed you for not letting me Hendrix myself when I got the flu. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah. It's not." Bret wished he knew how to get rid of the awkward tension settled over the room. He chose to ignore it instead. 

Shawn took a flask out from under his pillow, taking a swig. Bret gave him a look Shawn sneered back. “Don’t look at me like that, princess. You drink too.”

Bret sighed. “That’s  _ really _ not the point. It’s 10 AM, Shawn. You’re going to give yourself liver failure.”

“I’m fine.” Shawn flipped him off, taking another drink. 

“Brat.” Bret rolled his eyes.

_ “Brat?”  _ Shawn pouted at him. “I am not a  _ brat.” _

“You act like one.” Bret stuck his tongue out, and wished he had done something else when Shawn laughed. 

“You are such a baby, I can’t believe you! God. I’m glad I’m an only child.”

Oh. Shawn was an only child. “That explains a lot.” Bret snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shawn sat up. 

“That it’s obvious you never got your ass kicked as a kid.” 

“Go fuck yourself!” Shawn threw a pen at him. Bret threw it right back, hitting him in the face. “Ow! Fuck! Jesus, is this how you treat your brothers?”

“No.” Bret snorted. “If you were my brother I would have kicked your ass months ago.”

“Do it then.” Shawn stood, trying to puff himself up. 

Bret laughed. “I’m not gonna fight you, man. You’re drinking.”

“I’m  _ fine _ , I’ve had barely anything to drink! Come on, I can take you.” Shawn put his fists up in front of his face. 

Bret sighed, standing up. “Well, first of all, that’s an awful fighting stance.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Shawn frowned. 

“This.” Bret shoved Shawn’s forearm, and Shawn’s fist connected with his own mouth. “Why are you hitting yourself?” Bret teased. 

“Fuck you!” Shawn tried to punch Bret in the face. Bret got his arms up, and Shawn’s fist connected with his forearm. It was a pretty solid punch, Bret had to give him that. 

Bret hit Shawn in the kidneys, making him double over and wheeze. Too easy. Shawn grabbed his arm, twisting it. Bret winced, yanking his wrist up hard under Shawn’s thumb to break the hold. The sneaky little bastard hooked his foot around Bret’s ankle and shoved him forward, sending Bret sprawling across his bed. He bent Bret’s arm behind his back. 

“You cannot seriously be trying to do this.” Bret huffed out a laugh. “You really are an only child if you think you’re gonna get me to quit with this.” He kicked backwards, nailing Shawn in the knee and getting to his feet. 

“Son of a bitch!” Shawn winced. He jumped at Bret and Bret fell back onto the floor, able to tuck his chin at the last moment and not bash his head in. 

“Uh. Dude.” Bret placed his hands on Shawn’s chest. “This is weird.”

Shawn sat up and seemed to realize he was straddling Bret’s lower stomach. “Oh. Yeah. Truce?”

“Truce. Now get the fuck off of me.”

Shawn rolled off and Bret got to his feet. He could feel sore points he knew would become bruising, but that wasn’t too bad. Shawn was moping, but Bret knew there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with him. 

“I’m taking a shower.” Shawn snatched up some clothes and sulked into the bathroom. Bret took the moment of quiet without complaint, turning on his radio and sitting down to read. 


	4. Chapter 4

Shawn didn’t try to start anymore fights, thank god. Bret didn’t want to handle wrangling him all the time. He was never more glad than when winter break came around. 

“Going back to Canada, huh?” Shawn watched him pack, sitting cross-legged on his own bed. 

“Calgary,” Bret confirmed. 

“Like in the Bible?”

“That’s Cavalry.” Bret wrestled with his suitcase, managing to get it shut. “Calgary is in Alberta.” 

“Whatever.” Shawn lit a cigarette, chewing anxiously at the filter. 

“Man, why are you acting so weird?” Bret frowned. 

“I’m not weird. You’re weird.” Shawn sneered at him. 

Bret sighed. He wasn’t getting any useful information out of Shawn. Whatever. For the next three weeks, that was officially not his problem. "Well, I better go if I wanna make the plane." He picked up his bags. "Bye, Shawn."

"See you next semester." Shawn didn't even look at him. 

The plane ride was excruciatingly boring and made Bret antsy the way long trips always did. But seeing his dad there at the airport did cheer him up. 

"Dad!" Bret hugged him, grinning. 

"Hey, son. America treating you well?"

"It's fine. But I missed home." Bret threw his bags in the back, getting in the passenger seat. 

"Merry Christmas, son." Stu smiled. 

"Merry Christmas, Dad."

The house was just as Bret remembered, and the sounds of his brothers fighting were almost nostalgic.

"Bret!" Bruce's grip slipped on Keith's arm and Keith pushed him to the ground, laughing as he ran up to hug Bret.

"Gotta keep your guard up, man." Bret grinned down at the scowling Bruce. 

"Whatever." Bruce jumped up. "Welcome back!" 

Bret had missed his family terribly. As glad as he was to not have to constantly deal with screaming siblings and a total lack of privacy, he did wish he could visit home more often. 

"Are you making friends in America, hon?" his mother asked. 

"Nah, mostly focusing on schoolwork. I talk with some of the people in my classes, though."

"That's good. Have you met any girls?"

Owen snickered. Bret elbowed him under the table. "No, mom."

"Any boys?" 

"Moom," Bret groaned. 

"I mean, if Liz can marry a hot American dude, you can too," Keith encouraged, snickering. Bret gave him a look across the table because he was too far to kick. 

"Are you getting along with your roommate?" his father asked. 

"No," Bret groaned. "I swear, I got stuck with the most annoying person in the world." 

"I thought I was the most annoying person in the world." Owen grinned. 

Bret grinned back, punching his shoulder playfully. "Sure, but I'm allowed to hit you. Shawn is just… the worst. Total party guy." Bret knew he definitely sounded like a buzzkill. He'd certainly earned the ",fun police" nickname from Shawn. But Shawn just made him so flustered, and for Bret that confused ball of emotions largely surfaced as anger. "He's always coming in at three am reeking like beer and weed."

"How do you know what weed smells like?" Diana challenged. 

Bret ignored her. "And he's so cocky! I can't stand him." He sighed. "Could be worse. I only have to put up with him for one more semester."

"That's the spirit," his father encouraged. Bret smiled, always cheered up by his father's praise.

Bret helped his brother in law wash up after dinner. He liked Jim, a bright, handsome American who treated his sister well. And he loved his little niece, a babbling, happy toddler with adorable blonde curls. He had missed his family much more than he thought, and he didn't even mind Owen snoring in the bunk bed beneath him as he fell asleep. 


End file.
